Lololllooloolololollolollol! Lol. If you were to purchase all of Gwyneth Paltrow's "spring essentials" recommendations in the latest Goop, it would cost you more than $458,003. I love her so much. Brb, dying.

We're not exactly sure who's knocking down Gwynnie's door to get insight into her expensive taste, but she definitely proves she has a flawless sense of style and sharp eye for the hottest spring trends. Along with modeling eight outfits that showcase the latest looks from the runways-think an edgy punk look, a sweet pastel number and an eye-popping printed outfit-she also proffers a number of fab clothing items and chic accessories to pull off each style.

Sure, her $5,495 Valentino Rockstud python trapeze bag and her $850 Alexander Wang leather shorts would require many of us to take out a small loan in order to channel her springtime style, but we can definitely still find inspiration in Paltrow's lavish looks!

Per BBC News, a detective constable testified today in the suspects' ongoing trial in London that one of the accused, 35-year-old Kevin Liverpool, had kept a diary in which he had written down Stone's date and place of birth and notes about her career; and made a list, numbering 1 through 3, "rob," "wet/injure" and "death," with wet being slang for stabbing.

It's always so confusing to me when two people conspire on the same weird, obsessive, arbitrary murder plot. Like, how does a violent Joss Stone fixation develop in two separate brains simultaneously? Serious question. [E!]

Have you read this amazing essay Dax Shepard wrote about his dad's death? Because you must.

We had a lot of fun together during those four months. We took long car rides through the back roads of rural Michigan. We spent a weekend visiting every single house and apartment the two of us had ever lived in. There were 28 between the two of us. Together we had only shared three of those places: a single-wide mobile home from 0-1 years-old, a small, brick ranch on a few acres in the middle of nowhere from 1-3 years-old, and a modern, middle-class home in a McMansion-ee neighborhood from 15-16 years-old. It was that gap between 3 and 15 years-old that caused most of our issues. He was a selfish asshole, and I lived to hold a grudge, so it was a thoroughly symbiotic pairing. The car rides proved to be shockingly therapeutic. One of the hidden benefits of cancer is that it can erode grudges the way WD-40 dissolves rust. It just finds it's way into all the nooks and crannies and starts loosening. Before long, the once formidable chip on my shoulder had melded into something the size of a nicotine patch. Apologies were exchanged. Tears were had. Hugs were frequent and lingering. I spent the majority of our time together running my hand lightly over the tiny little hairs peaking out from the back of his soft, bald head. He let me do that for hours. Without any awareness of it at the time, the trips home turned into a proper Alexander Payne Movie. It became one of the more beautiful experiences of my life.